


Warm on a cold night

by nea_writes



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Link and all the thirds live in one happy home where tokusa is constantly aggravating link, M/M, and madarao acts like a sudden mother of five, more indulgent fluff because I have no shame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 04:27:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8518462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nea_writes/pseuds/nea_writes
Summary: "How come I always end up calling you when I can't fall asleep?"





	

**Author's Note:**

> part two of Kimmy's ultimate plan: posting more linkllen fluff from my database. kim's suggestion this time: 'i want howard link to raw my ass'. more reason as to why I do not listen to her suggestions
> 
> prompt given by liketolaugh was "How come I always end up calling you when I can't fall asleep?"
> 
> title is from Honne's "Warm On a Cold Night"

It was some un-Godly hour. Link knew this the moment his eyes shot open at the first vibration his phone off. Sleep had already gathered in the corners of his eyes and his limbs felt heavy with it, too.

 _Vrr vrr, vrr vrr, vrr vrr._ It was set to vibrate in the pattern of a heartbeat, and Link listened to it for a moment before sighing. He sat up in bed, reached over to tug open the curtain of a window, and set his pillows to line up against the headboard. Once the moonlight began to filter in bright enough for him to actually see something, he grabbed the phone off the nightstand.

 _Four in the morning?!_ He stared at the numbers in disbelief, before it finally caught up to him that he should answer soon. Resting against the pillows, Link slid the icon across the bottom of Walker’s picture.

“Hello,” he said drearily, rolling his neck, and then pulling his hair all over one shoulder.

 _“Good morning, Link.”_ Walker’s voice came across directly into Link’s ear, and he shivered at the intimate sensation.

 _“Not_ a good morning,” Link grumbled irritably, already mourning his lost sleep. There was no way he was going to fall back asleep again after this.

 _“I’m sorry,”_ Walker mumbled, and Link repressed a sigh, regretting his moment of childishness.

“No, no,” Link said, waving a hand as if Walker could actually see it. “I don’t have my mind all there yet, don’t listen to me.”

 _“Well that’s a first,”_ Walker said dryly, and Link grumbled low in his throat, ignoring the way it tightened when Walker laughed. _“Were you dreaming?”_

Had he been? Link hummed thoughtfully to fill the space as he thought backwards. He’d woken so suddenly he couldn’t really recall, but he got the feeling he had been. “Yes, I think so. I’m not sure. I can’t remember. …have you?” It was a stupid question. These calls only came when Walker had been dreaming.

 _“Yeah,”_ he said, and Link could hear shifting over the line, reminding him that Walker was laying in bed at the moment, alone in his room except for Link’s own voice over the line, held against his ear like Link’s was and the only other sound being their quiet breathing. _“Yeah. Say, are you looking outside?”_

Link tilted his head to stare at the moon. It was almost full and enchantingly huge, and he idly remembered that the Harvest Moon was coming up soon. “The moon is beautiful,” Link murmured, admiring the silver and white and hues of gray hanging in the sky.

 _“Isn’t it?”_ Walker asked quietly, and Link flushed with the sudden realization as to _why_ he found the moon so ethereal that night. Before Link could say something to fill the sudden lull, Walker continued. _“Will you tell me about the constellations?”_

“The stars and their stories, huh?” Link said, successfully distracted. He glanced up to find one, and smiled. “Here, look to the…” he paused to imagine the view from Walker’s room versus his own. “To the right a bit of the moon. Do you see that bright star?” Link lead him through trailing the constellation, barely visible as it was in the polluted night air of the city and with dawn slowly creeping up, but as Walker’s voice lost more and more of that tense edge, Link found that he really didn’t mind being woken up at all.

The sky was barely brightening, so soft and gentle it looked like dawn would never come, when Walker finally spoke. _“Thank you, Link. I needed that.”_

“Don’t thank me,” Link said instead, brow furrowing. Link wasn’t really doing anything that deserved thanks. He wasn’t chasing away the nightmares, he wasn’t preventing the terror that caused it so long ago. He wasn’t even actually there to just rub a warm hand down Walker’s back and remind him that he was still alive and not trapped in a burning building. Link wasn’t doing anything.

 _“No,”_ Walker’s voice sighed, gentle and kindly. _“You’re doing a lot.”_ He chuckled dryly and Link felt his heart skip a beat. The sky was definitely brighter now, and so he slipped from his bed, hissing quietly at the icy touch of the floor. _“Are you getting out of bed?”_

“Yeah, I’m going to make coffee,” Link said absentmindedly as he hunted for his slippers that’d been kicked under the bed. Damn. How did they get all the way to the other side?

 _“I’m sorry for keeping you up so late,”_ Walker murmured, and his apologies were even worse than his gratitude and Link made sure to correct it.

“Don’t apologize either,” he said sharply, glancing towards his phone as though he could make Walker feel the look even through it. “Ah!” He softly exclaimed as he finally found his shoes and slipped them all, relishing the release from the cold floor.

_“And what would you have me do? Can’t say thank you, can’t say sorry. You put me in a difficult place, Link.”_

“Deal with it,” Link said shortly, shuffling out his room and downstairs to the kitchen. He stayed quiet on the way, unwilling to wake anyone else sleeping upstairs until he’d made it to the kitchen. “Are you feeling better?” he asked, voice echoing the slightest bit in the kitchen lit softly by the pre-dawn light. He rummaged for the coffee grounds without turning the overhead light on.

 _“Yeah,”_ he breathed, and he sounded better. Lighter, less tired in a sense. As though he could finally fall asleep without the threat of night terrors. _“How come I always end up calling you when I can’t fall asleep?”_ He sounded amused.

Link snorted. “You know why.”

_“No, I don’t.”_

“Don’t make me say it,” Link growled, measuring out the grounds carefully in the weak light. “You’re going to make me mess up my coffee,” Link complained.

 _“And how is that my fault?”_ Allen demanded. _“I’d rather say its all your fault!”_

“What?” Link said incredulously. “Walker, you make no sense.”

 _“Oh, I make plenty sense,”_ Walker said smugly. _“After all, it’s your fault I call you all the time.”_

“No, you _really_ are not making sense,” Link insisted. “How on earth is that my fault?”

Walker laughed, warm and delighted over the line, and it settled over Link like a gentle embrace. _“Oh, Link. You really aren’t all there in the mornings, are you?”_

“Don’t patronize me,” Link snapped, jabbing the power button on the coffee much more strongly than what was strictly necessary. “I’ll hang up.”

_“But you’ll still answer if I call?”_

“Hanging up now,” Link said quickly and then ended the call, placing the cell carefully on the counter and then gripping the edge. Honestly, Walker made _zero_ sense. He stiffened when heard the quiet step of someone entering the kitchen, and whirled around to find Tokusa.

Tokusa muttered something that sounded like it could’ve been a pleasantry as he crossed the kitchen to Link’s side, squinting into the morning light becoming slowly stronger and than checking the make sure enough coffee was brewing for a cup for him too. Satisfied, he side-eyed Link and folded his arms, smirking.

“What?” Link asked defensively, color rising in his cheeks. He couldn’t tell why he felt embarrassed, only that he did and Tokusa knew and he would not waste such an opportunity.

“You’re such an idiot,” he said simply, then turned and left, throwing behind him, “call me when the coffee’s done.”

Link spluttered indignantly, shut his mouth firmly, and glared at the coffee pot. No one made any sense at such an un-Godly hour, he reasoned. That’s all it was, definitely.


End file.
